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:: Mickleplum ::

Submit your original poetry to be displayed in the Penman Lounge on freestylevision.com

Take a transition and open your mind or forever walk your path blind

Urban Poet I Guess

Based in Lancashire -- England

Well I'm a 38yr old ex jazz/street dancer who always had a taste for and interest in verse. Having started out reading the satirical John Betjamin and the profound John Cooper Clarke in my teens, I took to composing my own verse in a variety of styles.

As time passed and musical interests brought me into the realms of Hip Hop and Jazz. I then found verse in the form of Galliano, Gil Scott Heron, The Last Poets and Public Enemy to name but a few.

I took to doing the rounds of the UK clubbing scene in 1989 and I guess that after 10yrs or more rolling around clubs and scenes in various forms, my poetry at times reflects upon my journey through it all.

My Websites came together through wanting an outlet for my work and to set myself a project that would hopefully evolve with the input of others. Having searched around on the net and finding a few of the pay for listing sites, I decided to give other budding poets and writers the opportunity to post work on the site for free. Thus was born "The Urban Poetry Project"

The Urban Poetry Project

::08:20:08::

::: Program 5 (Battered Wife Tale) :::

Straining to stand straight
Gripping to plates that are
Washed and then washed
Again
Stains before eyes put there
By a battered mind
Cruel beats upon beats
Because the stain on a
Blue shirt was not just
Washed out so.

Bruises to half closed eyes
Throb and then throb again
Serving as a reminder that
This cycle is to serve for this
Days excuse – curry stain

Blue shirt washes.

Washing machine
Endeavors to redress
The beats upon beats
Received for an incorrect
Program wash
Chosen through closed eyes
Heavily bruised by clenched
Fist and an angry forehead.

The uncouth, uneducated
Foul mouthed assault
Beats down, treading an already
Shattered persona
That no longer shines, blonde hair
Flowing
Inner glow, dulled and vacated.

Shirt dries,
Ironed in fear
Reminders of the last little
Accident.
Thankless, door slams
Relief
Returns to tears
And an ever searching quest
To summon strength.
And Leave.

But strength sapped
Withdrawn by beat upon beat
Extracted by a weak and vulnerable
Persona that,
Hides such inadequacies
Behind each beat upon beat

Blue shirt returns
Stale beer and slurred words
That carry that edge to the
Brink of returning to
Mr Hyde
Sink is gripped
And waits for the assault
Verbal at first because Blue Shirt
Cannot find the remote.
Blue shirt removed, once again requiring
Program 5 and the requisite removal of
This week's Curry Stain.
Blue shirt enters same cycle
Same sh*t and same pain.

Written by: ~ Mickleplum

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